Last Tango in a Trailer
by trace93
Summary: Tim & Lyla's thoughts on their time in the trailer. Takes place after S4.6, "Stay."


AN: these characters are not mine.

When I saw Lyla at Mr. Saracen's funeral, I froze. I mean, I was in no state of mind to deal with all that luggage right then, and it was not the place, but I knew we needed to talk. And she was a sight for sore eyes. So when she came to my trailer, my brain was overwhelmed with all different feelings. I'd let her down, and she was gonna let me know it. But as far as my heart goes, things were clear cut. I had missed the hell outta her. Missed smellin' her sweet scent, touching her, kissing her, making love to her. That's how I need to be in a relationship, which is why long distance don't work for me. Lord was I glad to see her.

… the cool silk of your hair against my skin…

Heard from Dad that Tim had abandoned his scholarship, and I was crushed. I'd believed in him, and even though he managed to get the scholarship by himself, I still feel like I had something to do with it. Believing in him, supporting him emotionally, loving him. Tim being Tim, I wasn't even sure he'd be at Mr. Saracen's service, but there he was—responsible, serious, sorrowful. And gorgeous. He pretends he doesn't need anyone, but he needs people way more than he thinks. I have to confess, my stomach flipped when I learned he was living in a trailer. How much more white trash can you get? I didn't know what to expect when I knocked on his door. But when he smothered my mouth with his, we tipped headlong into that amazing rabbit hole we go to when we're together. Where money, family, school, and everything else don't matter. It's just Tim and Lyla, pure and simple, like it was meant to be despite all odds.

… your triceps flexing under my fingers when you're over me…

Hell, the second I got within arm's distance of Garrity, my animal instinct took over and I just wanted her, needed her, especially after a couple of months of bein' lonely, feelin' nothing. I don't even have Billy around to make me feel like crap. I just stew in my own self-pity and fend off little Becky. Don't think I wasn't tempted to take it all the way when she kissed me, and if I'd had another couple of beers, I probably would've, like I did with her mom. But the only thing I could think about was how my heart ached for Garrity, and my head, not my dick, called the shots, for once.

… how my fingers slip into your skull behind your ears when we kiss…

_After we went inside his trailer, the next three days all blended together like some kind of crazy erotic movie. I thought it was going to be disgusting inside, but it was so cozy. It smelled spicy and musky like Tim (which I love) and it felt like a little space capsule, the two of us just floating away from the real world. I lost track of how many times we made love. That first afternoon, maybe during our third time, I felt a love for Tim greater than I'd ever felt before. He was so gentle, more than I remember, maybe because he was sober, and I got the sense he missed me more than he let on. There was a sadness that had softened all his rough edges, and it was beautiful. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, and that is so true. But they didn't say it might make you change your mind about everything you'd decided up til then._

… how your hair half-shades your eyes but not your perfect mouth…

I guess it was the second day, we'd spent the morning in bed, and I got up the nerve to try to convince her to stay in Dillon. She heard me out, and you know, she actually was way more receptive than I ever thought she'd be. In part, it was the amazing sex we were having, better than ever, more urgent, more heartfelt, less inhibited (that trailer is one awesome little love nest, lemme tell you, as long as you lock the door). We've always shared that soul connection, and when I was inside her, it also felt like a spiritual bond that couldn't be broken no matter what. So for just a minute, when she said that managing the shop sounded pretty hard to walk away from, I felt like I was one kiss away from having it all. But then she asked me what I wanted, twice, and when I told her, it wasn't enough. But it was the truth.

…how your sweet hourglass figure fits against me perfectly…

For a moment, the life Tim described actually did sound wonderful. If I set aside all aspirations and curiosity about what I might actually achieve in my life, I'd take him up in a second. My heart leaped when he told me I was what he wanted—especially the second time, when he turned away and looked like a completely lost, lovestricken boy. Which is maybe what he is. I wanted to hold him in my arms and protect him, because he really has the most tragically beautiful soul, and I feel like I'm one of the few he allows to see it. But it's almost like he's determined to limit himself, not to hope or strive for anything, so he can't fail.

…yourr broad hands and long fingers hot on my back…

I know people think I'm dumb and lazy, and there may be some truth to that but really, I just want a simple life. I am a simple guy, and yeah, it sounds cliched, but football, beer and sex really are everything I need. Well football now means coachin' or watchin' (although practicing with the Lions recently showed me I hadn't lost much, and that tackling is like therapy for me), and sex more and more means love, and I ain't got that. So without love, the sex is just an animal act that means complications, which I don't need.

I just want Lyla.

At least I had one last chance to convince her to be with me. But now she's gone.

…I want you, Garrity, every square inch of you, all to myself…

No one knows what the future holds, so who knows—maybe he is my one true love and we'll wind up together. But for now, we've gone our separate ways, and all I can do is pray for him, even though I'm not that religious anymore, because I worry about him. But I already sorely miss his touch, his mouth on mine, his all-consuming presence. I can still feel his heat evaporating off my skin.

…There'll always be a part of you in my heart, Tim.

Goodbye, Lyla Garrity.

Bye, Tim Riggins.


End file.
